Chapter 307: The Clever “Orc”

“You… How can you…”

The Bell Ringer choked on his words. Emmon’s hand, now guided by Wang Yu using the Chariot’s power, was wrapped tightly around the man’s throat and pressing against it with relentless force.

“…”

Wang Yu said nothing.

It wasn’t as if he refused to answer—he simply hadn’t yet mastered the feel of controlling someone else’s body through the Chariot’s projection. Speaking with another person’s mouth was… clumsy.

The Chariot had penetrated the darkness as if it were a portal. Wang Yu wasn’t even sure where this place was.

But Wang Yu’s point of entry into this space had been Emmon, likely due to his faith in the Lady of the Night, which linked him to the Tree of the Night. That same bond had anchored the Chariot’s power to him.

Upon his arrival, Wang Yu had witnessed the entire confrontation between Emmon and the Bell Ringer before Emmon’s soul was severed and turned incorporeal.

And so, without hesitation, Wang Yu had seized control of Emmon’s now-ownerless body and launched it at the enemy—his friend’s foe was now his own.

“Tell me… who you are,” the orc’s mouth moved haltingly. “Why did you attack the Lady of the Night’s followers? What is this place?”

Emmon’s speech, though initially stilted, steadily became smoother. Wang Yu was growing more adept at maneuvering the orc’s body with the power of the Chariot. Compared to manipulating his own bloodforged clones, this was trickier—Emmon’s body wasn’t a blank canvas, but rather a complex vessel with instincts, reflexes, and limits.

Still, with the Chariot’s influence threading deeper into Emmon’s body, Wang Yu began to understand its movement until he wielded it almost as naturally as his own.

A bell tolled. This time, it wasn’t from the Bell Ringer in Wang Yu’s grasp, but from behind him.

“He has companions,” Wang Yu muttered to himself as he turned. Two more figures stood ten meters away, garbed just like the Bell Ringer. The sonorous toll had come from them.

The sound pulsed outward. Suddenly, Wang Yu’s hand clutched only fabric. The Bell Ringer was gone, leaving behind nothing but a tattered robe full of holes.

He had reappeared beside his companions and was eyeing Wang Yu with heightened wariness.

“There’s something wrong with him. The god’s inheritance no longer affects him. We have to kill him right here, right now. Otherwise, he’ll break free of this space woven from His legacy.”

The rescued Bell Ringer addressed his allies grimly. Indeed, the Chariot’s force rendered Emmon’s body immune to whatever “legacy” they were referring to.

“My sight is limited here,” Wang Yu noted. “I can’t extend the Chariot’s power beyond Emmon’s body. But this vessel is strong—very strong. In terms of raw strength, it’s on par with a grand knight.”

He flexed Emmon’s limbs, feeling the resistance ease as the Chariot dug deeper. His movements grew smoother and his coordination clearer.

The two new Bell Ringers said nothing, but each withdrew several slender daggers from beneath their robes etched with intricate, indecipherable runes.

The first Bell Ringer caught the daggers they tossed to him and held them with a reverse grip. The three of them together moved with uncanny speed, weaving together like shadows and closing in on Wang Yu in a swift but silent formation.

They meant to kill him.

“Rogues, then,” Wang Yu muttered. “I can’t let them win. If I die here, Emmon’s body dies with me. And I still don’t know what the hell this place is.”

He leapt back, trying to maintain his distance. Though he was slower than the Bell Ringers, he eyed every shift in their steps, every twitch of their blades.

If they landed a clean strike now, Wang Yu’s projection might survive—but Emmon wouldn’t. The Chariot’s projection would shatter, and the truth behind this strange place would be lost.

One Bell Ringer surged ahead, darting low across the ground in a blur. His body twisted unpredictably, his dagger gleaming like a serpent’s fang and seeking flesh.

No longer retreating, Wang Yu braced himself. He channeled Emmon’s strength, his fighting spirit erupting through muscle and bone. With a roar, he hurled Emmon’s greatsword at the charging figure like a spinning axe.

Against fast, blade-wielding assassins, a long weapon was more of a burden than not. Bare fists would do better.

The spinning sword carved a gleaming arc through the air, its edge aimed straight for the Bell Ringer’s throat.

These Bell Ringers weren’t especially powerful. Despite their speed and agility, they were still within Wang Yu’s reach thanks to Emmon’s brute strength.

Another bell rang out, this time from the rogue’s allies behind him. The sword that was about to decapitate a Bell Ringer vanished right before Wang Yu’s eyes.

The charging rogue didn’t slow. Instead, he leapt, pouncing toward Wang Yu like a predator.

Wang Yu pivoted, shoulder lowered, bracing for impact.

Among knights, taking to the air in close combat was a fool’s move. Knights couldn’t dodge or course-correct in mid-air. They would be little more than sitting targets.

Wang Yu prepared to drive an elbow into the rogue’s chest and strike his heart with sheer force when another bell rang.

In mid-air, the Bell Ringer vanished. Wang Yu’s attack struck only empty space.

In that split second, the two remaining Bell Ringers hurled their daggers. They sliced through the air, arcing with impossible precision toward Emmon’s vital points.

Wang Yu spun and slid as he drew on the orc’s instincts. Fighting spirit pooled into his forearms and formed a hardened shield. He deflected one blade and let the other graze his side.

But in that single heartbeat of distraction, the first rogue reappeared behind him.

The rogue thrust a dagger to Wang Yu’s spine from his left. A second dagger in his right hand struck at Wang Yu’s neck.

Duels between knights were often simple in execution, but with deadly stakes. Raw power reduced combat to instincts, timing, and sheer grit.

Without potentials in the mix, these simple factors would decide the victor. Wang Yu didn’t know what Emmon’s potential was, and had no idea how to trigger it remotely via the Chariot even if he did. The three Bell Ringers, for some reason, didn’t seem to exhibit such a power either.

Three against one was already dangerous just from sheer numbers alone. Their strange ability to phase in and out of reality was even more troublesome.

Wang Yu took a deep breath, Aemon’s lungs filled with oxygen. Red spread outward from the orc’s heart, flooding every inch of his massive frame.

The Bell Ringer’s thrown dagger missed his back and instead struck his side.

The one aimed for his neck met something far worse—Emmon’s teeth. Wang Yu had turned Aemon’s head just in time to bite the blade. With a crunch, the steel snapped between the orc’s powerful jaws.

Emmon’s skin had turned blood-red. Just moments ago, the body wouldn’t have been fast enough. But Wang Yu had found the trigger for the berserk state, the racial ability unique to orcs. He’d activated it without hesitation, and the tide began to turn.

“He’s entered a berserk state,” one of the Bell Ringers muttered. “We’ll split his attention with thrown blades and wear him down. Once it ends, we’ll take him down in his weakened state.”

They didn’t seem surprised. Orcs almost only died after their berserk state expired.

A foot struck the ground as Wang Yu drove Emmon’s body forward like a crimson thunderbolt. The impact cratered the earth.

Blood-red mist rose from his skin. His figure blurred. Though the Bell Ringers leapt back, it was too late. Wang Yu was upon them in an instant, his arms outstretched, as if to offer a very enthusiastic hug.

As Wang Yu’s arms closed inward, the bell tolled once more. But before the raging orc’s grasp could lock around his target, the Bell Ringer vanished into nothingness—leaving Wang Yu clutching only air.

The orc let out a furious, piercing howl at the sky, a raw bellow of primal rage and thwarted instinct. The sound rippled through the air like a shockwave—grating, wild, and impossible to ignore. And in that moment of distraction, the faint shimmer of magical light pulsing over the Perfect Fractal lens over his right eye went unnoticed.

Two razor-sharp daggers, thrown in quick succession, sank into the orc’s unguarded back. The other two Bell Ringers hadn’t hesitated. While their prey roared skyward, they had launched their attack, aiming for vital points.

With a blood-soaked snarl, the orc whipped around, crimson eyes locking onto the Bell Ringers. There was no hesitation nor thought. Just fury. His massive frame shifted instantly into a charging stance.

Another subtle chime echoed behind him. The Bell Ringer who had previously vanished now rematerialized behind the orc’s back.

It was a trap, a familiar pattern. Draw the beast’s attention with feints, then strike from behind. Rage without reason was predictable.

But—the earth shattered beneath the orc’s feet as he launched forward. All three Bell Ringers’ eyes widened in unison.

The orc didn’t charge at the dagger-throwers. Rather, he turned and lunged straight toward the Bell Ringer who had just revealed himself.

He had known exactly where his enemy would appear!

“This… this is impossible! A berserk orc can’t think! How could he know I’d reappear there?!”

The Bell Ringer gaped in disbelief as the blood-red juggernaut bore down on him.

Their tactics were flawless against a true berserk orc. With their phasing abilities and coordinated strikes, any ordinary orc would have fallen to their teamwork.

But Emmon was no longer mindless. He wasn’t even in control. Wang Yu was the one piloting his body. He had access to the monstrous strength of Emmon’s berserk state without any of the drawbacks. It was a terrifying combination.

And as for how Wang Yu predicted the Bell Ringer’s location, that was all thanks to Avia.

Perfect Fractal, brought into this space via the Chariot’s power, had captured subtle clues invisible to the eye—the displacement of air, warping of light, and the tiniest depressions in the dust beneath their feet. These minute disturbances betrayed the Bell Ringers’ whereabouts, even as they phased out of existence.

Their bells only rendered their bodies intangible and invisible, not truly absent. The world would still respond to them during that transitory period.

And Perfect Fractal could capture and process those minute responses with eerie clarity.

In Wang Yu’s sight, the Bell Ringers’ current locations were outlined with translucent silhouettes even when they used their bells.

And before they could even begin to react, Wang Yu struck. His fists, charged with all the power and fury of his berserk state, slammed full-force into the unfortunate Bell Ringer’s half-revealed face.

An explosion of blood and bone ensued.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep